Since I arrived at the tail end of the summer festival season last year, I didn't get it together in time to buy a yukata, or summer kimono, but I was so envious of all the girls in their bright colors, flower-embellished hairstyles, square-bottomed purses and wooden shoes, crowding the trains on summer festival weekends. (This picture I took last year gives you an idea of what I mean.) This year I bought my yukata and obi early, from the most aggressive Japanese salesperson I've ever encountered, who very politely tried to sell me all the yukata-related accessories I might possibly need. I, in turn, very politely declined. I was going to make my own purse, thank you. And there's no way I would subject my poor feet to an evening of intense walking in wooden shoes. (My feet and I have a shared aversion to painful shoes, no matter how cute.)

It was my first pattern-less, guideline-less purse, which led to several mistakes and a lot of head-scratching, trying to picture how it was going to work when I turned it inside out. But eventually it all came together and except for a mistake in the lining, it's exactly how I pictured it. Best of all, both the outer and lining fabric came from my swap with Mariko and the basket and drawstring came from the 100-yen store, bringing the total cost of the purse to less than $2. Even the politest of pushy yukata-accessory peddlers couldn't beat that.

And here it is in action, on the train after a long night of fireworks and festival food:

I should add that I was so completely terrified about putting on the yukata wrong or not being able to put it on at all that I did a dry run several hours before, just to be sure. Should you ever need them, these instructions are nearly as helpful as a Japanese grandmother.